


To Ravel Into Dreams

by sadclapz



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Mild Sexual Content, Sequel, Sexual Content, fire emblem fates people do you still exist, idk what else to tag, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 02:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30031707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadclapz/pseuds/sadclapz
Summary: In her arms was his tomb of kingship. A cradle for clumsy lovers. Something only they could understand, all raveled into dreams.-Sequel to an old piece of mine, Rococo Denial (not required to read beforehand, but would be much appreciated, and provides context).
Relationships: Éponine | Nina/Siegbert
Kudos: 5





	To Ravel Into Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> first of all, i began writing this two years ago. i went back and forth due to loss of motivation (and insane ADD-thank god for my recent diagnosis). i’ve changed a lot since then. i began writing it shortly after the ninabert fic prior to this one and i finally wanted to finish it. i would absolutely appreciate reading my fic “rococo denial” before this one, it’s the first one i ever posted to this site. it might be slightly cringe to read due to my old style, but it will provide better context. as always, i hope you enjoy <3

Nina made a self-assuring promise never to drink in a quantity that makes a fool of herself. This was before the collected, calculated, careful thief indulged in enough alcohol to have her body swaying like a shipwreck in a storm. The sailors were desperate to abandon ship if she stumbled across the hall once more.

Siegbert held her body as he opened the door to his bedroom. Giggling at the sight of her own legs clumsily patter about as they fail to keep her up, she locked her arms around his neck. Even through years of leading stubborn, thousand pound horses and throwing spears at incredible distances, the prince's petite fiancé proved to be the most difficult to pull and carry about the castle. He trekked through mountains of hardwood stairs and stone fields, all while her laughter floated as echoes in the halls.

Nina was not the only one fallen with defeat to intoxication. Many were just as drunk- dare say, even more than her. Roaring laughter and clumsy titters filled the space within the castle all night. It was a party for Xander and Charlotte's wedding anniversary, a celebration filled with grand food and even grander drinks. The time was nearing midnight, yet no one danced with the ghosts of slumber.

Siegbert wasn't a fan of these kind of parties. He didn't enjoy watching Laslow and his father try to out drink each other- or his mother stumbling to the floor, brasserie exposed and ankles reddened with every twist. He didn't partake in many conversations, even with the select few sober guests, being more concerned with his future wife's consumption of dark wines. Fingers attempted to sneak over to the lipstick rimmed glass any time her gaze lingered away, but he could not trick the once-thief. She would snarl and hiss _"it's my last glass, I promise"_ as a predictable carousel of a mantra.

When they finally reached his room, the boy was relieved to find the safest haven in the castle. The drunken maiden caught glimpses of the patriotically colored gold and black, splotches of purple scattered about the furnishings. She gazed immediately to the bed, floundering about and swimming into the cozy sea of sheets. The pillows smelled of him; the fresh pine, whatever enticing concoction of masculine musk he must have bought in town, and warm fires. He sat on the edge, petting the swirls of charcoal running past her nape, as she buried her face in the scented silk. Without braids, she bears striking resemblance to her mother, with the same pointed tongue and sharpened tone. 

"So..." she lulled, dragging her o's along her teeth. "You took me to your room?"

He brushed the hair from her forehead, wanting to look upon the almond hue of her eyelids. "I couldn't risk having you in any of the guest bedrooms. We've had situations of... many occupying them without permission."

"Are you sure it wasn't just to have _me_ in your room? _In your bed_?"

Nina tapped weak fingers against his arm, stepping up the pallete of skin. She jolted with the occasional hiccup. Nails haunted up to rest against his cheek. Giggling like an imp, she reached behind to pull his hair playfully. The concerned lover grasped that hand in his.

Gathering the rest of his patience, he looks upon her like he's fallen in love all over again. This woman, this inebriated angel in velvety obsidian, was going to be his wife. He felt the cool band of silver against her knuckles, the center gem twinkling even in low light. He smiled at the gorgeous mess, makeup now freckled in shadows under her eyes.

"You are madly drunk," he whispered, running his thumb along her palm. "Please be mindful of what you say, my darling."

She slipped back into the covers, taking her hand away from his. With a sigh, she turned over on her side, facing away from the prince. "Oh, but  _ my darling _ , how can I if I'm  _ madly drunk _ ?"

No alcohol can dull that blade of a tongue. After mocking his tone, she grew silent, only her breathing brushing against the silk audible. All seemed peaceful until she began to shudder with chill, bones near chattering out of her skin. She shuffled about, blankets thrown into sleepy tantrum, her body now clutched to his arm. He swore there was a mumble- something along the lines of rhyme so old or time of scold. Her skin was cold as untouched porcelain . _I'm so cold, of course, you dunce._

"Naga's sake, you're freezing," he gasped after being lost in romanticized visions. "You need to be more... covered."

Nina giggled (surprisingly, no vulgar comment for rebuttal) with lecherous delight, fluttering the feathers of her lashes like a mating peacock. Slowly escaping from her iron grip, he searched his dresser for warmer clothing. Although she modeled a beautiful dress, one that took a saga of shopping trips with Forrest and Ophelia, it was simply impractical for the evening weather. 

Not to mention, he never saw her parading so much bare flesh to him. Satin, the hue of dusk cut much below the neckline, shaved to a point at the valley of her breasts, the night sky hung and lace ribbons at her thighs. It- she, in all her tawdry divinity- was enough to bring him to his knees.

"What would your mother do if she found us here?" she asked, swiftly turning towards him.

"Nothing. She is lenient." he spoke hopeful words, and prayers that Charlotte would not wander near.

"Your father?" 

The precipitous curiosity frightened him. He continued frisking the drawers. "End my life with the very sword he named his own son after. What are you on about?"

Covers slid below Nina's waist, svelte appendages (occasional bruises poking about the flush color, war’s end could never keep her from her craft) kicked about slowly, playfully, like a cat's dance. She yawned, groggy with lingering narcosis, the devils of drink pulling her heavy eyelids. Siegbert watched the scene from the mirror resting upon the somber wood. Remarkable; this woman was his seductress, his thumping weakness,  his . The same agitated thief and part-time deviant he met in the deep realms that fell to pieces from any male interaction. Though currently teaming with inviting obscenity, she chose him. For good or evil. In peace or war. Between the syllables of reality hidden in the fiction she created. Not for the royal surname, imported chamomile or shining coin- but  _him_ .

"Not such a good little prince anymore, are we?" she cooed. "It's like you don't care that he could walk in at any time, especially if we were-"

"Nina, of the gods’ holiest creations, please," Siegbert blushed, cutting her off with quick panic. "Now, wear this to bed. You are near frozen in that dress."

She propped herself up by her wrists. "I can't sleep like this?"

"I can send Flora in to help change you if you desire-"

"I'd rather you do it."

Chills slithered through his spine, coiling around the bones as glacial snakes, soon turning to blazing temptation in his chest. Nina's eyes branded into his, irises of stone mixed into the warmest brown. Lifting herself off the bed, she prowled over with impetus like a feline in heat. She turned her back to him, heaps of black curls flourished down the bare skin.

They were no strangers to young love and its ignoble quantities that was kept hidden away from royal predecessors and suspicious parents. Many times did they waltz around borders of love making while indulging in stifled moans and metaphorical deaths she wrote so often in her novels. Yet, never was that border more than tiptoed over for brief moments, leaving them panting with more ache than before. He promised to sate their yearning once they were married- because that's what was supposed to be right, what was just, what all the nobles preached to their youth.

That devilish tenderness in her grin was enough to betray any moral code he had just to trace the barest bones of her shoulder blade. Siegbert pushed her hair to one side, knuckle down the center of her back. Palms slid up to meet the thin straps, slowly bringing them down her arms. Nina's muscles tensed, conforming to his touch, closing her eyes to keep the room from spinning. He pricked each button from their fabric, revealing more nubile flesh as it hung loose around her waist.

The dress fell to the floor, exposing all save for the undergarments around hips. She faced him- as he near choked, morals hazy by such venery- with a shy smile, wrapping arms around his neck to kiss his stagnant mouth. He drank in her kisses every time since their first, a philter of reminder to his devotion, intoxication by reverence. This lover who came sickened by his nobility, life shattered by others of the same blue blood, now held him melted in her palm. Guiding by the collar of his shirt, she led him back to his bed.

Tentative, Siegberg swept fingers across her rib cage, bones in their sheet of virgin silk. Taking ahold of his hands, Nina placed his touch under the hillock of her breasts, his breathing hitched and paused. She giggled of golden preludes, soothing his beating heart. He met her mouth with fever, blush tickling its glow on her cheeks. Nina’s squirming, her hushed mewls as she guided his hand further down, the breaths that crumbled to ghosts in the crook of her now love-speckled neck. The way her leg hinged carefully to adjust to a dragging finger, and the exhale of stars when he angled his touch perfectly.

He lost track of time in their princedom; a pocket of space with pink curled in its sunset skies, blue sea-waves, and marbled thrones all abandoned. Nina bit the skin of her thumb as she shuddered, those waves bubbling to sea foam, crashing to its libidinal shore. Siegbert became lost in that oceanic passion, grasping at her waist as if he was to be thrown overboard. How the pulsing at his hand- due to _his hand_ , his alone- contested to his heartbeats. Moans sewn into the night untangled from their seams to knotted cries.

She let out a final sigh, a last of the smallest death that breathed life into his veins. There was something different about that night. Maybe it was the drink boiling from blood to red wine within. Maybe it was her choice in perfume that drove him wild, sunbathing in the scent of summer days and lemongrass. He uncurled his fingers as the rhythm inside her quieted and separated from her neck. Hanging eyelids like curtains to other realms, she pulled him closer by the hair for one last kiss, a harlequin smile to his lips. 

In her arms was his tomb of kingship. A cradle for clumsy lovers. Something only they could understand, all raveled into dreams.

Begrudgingly, Siegbert attempted to remove himself, before a weak grip caught his arm. Nina pouted, grazing his cheek with feathery fingertips. “Leaving so soon?”

“I must get back before everyone begins to wonder where I’ve run to,” he whispered, taking those angel-winged touches within his own palm. “Please, get some sleep if you can.”

She huffed, pushing him at the chest and rolling to her side. “You’re a bore, Sieg. I need love making, not sleep.”

“You are drunk as a fool and half asleep as we speak,” he protested, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Nonsense, I am awake as an alley cat. I don’t need sleep,” she protested with a yawn. “Goodness... on second thought, a little nap for this cat may not be such a terrible idea. You know, there’s a saying in some country gods-know-where how sleep is like... some flower, I don’t know.”

He held in the laughter towards his drowsy lover. “A rose, my dear. Sleep is like a rose.”

Nina rolled her eyes, predicting the playful grin before his mouth could curve. She smirked into the pillow, lids heavy with dreams lingering in the near distance. “That’s it! How wise you are. I knew there had to be a reason to marry you.”

“Goodnight, Nina. I will return before too long,” Siegbert stood to pull the covers over her bare chest, stroking the black curls behind her ear, until a weak touch lingered across his arm.

“Wait- don’t leave yet.”

“But I must.”

“I’m writing a new chapter in my novel... You wanna hear what it’s about?”

The prince knew where she was attempting to lead him to. Seduction never came naturally to her until he fell to her feet at every whim, lovesick as an obedient dog. Even as he could recall every technique she used in repetition, her charm overpowered any common sense left.

“Not now. I’m pleading, Nina, rest well.”

“Oh, Sieg. It’s absolutely filthy,” her words drifted, snuggling into the plush paradise. “I’m quite revolting, let me tell you.”

“Tell me in the morning, please.”

It was not long before drunken babbling crafted into silence. She drifted to slumber in slow breaths as he bent down to leave a kiss on her forehead. After blowing out the nearby candle, he tiptoed towards the bedroom door. It was hard to take his eyes off that paradisal scene; lover encased in the dark, royal sheets, the black night seeping past the windows, her shadowy cocoon. Creaking from the door preluded the castle’s commotions, already ringing in his ears with their roaring cacophony and tinkering of wine glasses. He looked back to Nina, opening his mouth to whisper the words neither of them could articulate well.

_I love you._

As if his heart jumped past his rib cage to grab at the syllables in his eager throat, Siegbert gulped the words back. The ache in his middle hungered for more, doubled him over in a pain only remedied by throwing his crown to the dirt. His morality and his love were fragmented, puzzles with jagged edges and missing corners. Yet, with Nina never far from his side, he began to piece together his picture; in its pink curls and blue sea-waves that raveled into dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> i am very critical of myself when it comes to writing so this may not be my strongest piece. i have always had vague plans for a third and final piece to this sort of ninabert series, may it come but i would like to give fates a rest for a while. i have more fire emblem and hannibal plans coming soon though :)


End file.
